Page 21 of Salto

“Yeah.”

I shifted my weight, adjusting my gym bag on my shoulder.

“Who?”

“You, actually.”

CHAPTER 8

“What?”

Why didn’t I believe him? He’d said it out loud, but it was like my brain just wasn’t processing it.

"I was hoping to catch you before you left."

“Why?” I glanced over my shoulder like there might be someone else he could possibly mean.

There wasn’t.

When I turned back, he was still watching me. My eyes drifted to the sleeve of tattoos on his arm. The Olympic rings were on his forearm in stark black ink.

I hadn't even noticed them on the beach.

Now they were impossible to look away from.

My dream, simply etched on his skin.

It made something in my chest ache.

“I had your name on the list,” he suddenly said.

I tore my gaze away from his tattoos and looked back at him. My heart skipped another beat.

He had my name on the list?

“Then why didn't you call it out?” The question came out far more accusatory than I'd intended.

“Caldwell said you weren’t interested in elite.”

“Right,” I said, a small, humorless scoff slipping out. “Because I’m injured.”

His gaze didn’t move off mine. “So is it true? That you’re injured?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but then closed it again. I shifted my weight, tightening my grip on the strap of my bag.

“I can't do elite,” I said finally. “I have a scholarship here, and I can’t just decide to—switch everything.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Red.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. He'd called me that on the beach too. Somehow it sounded even more natural now, rolling off his lips like he'd been saying it for years.

When I didn’t answer him right away, he continued.

“I saw you brace your lower back in your pirouette.”

I froze. Something about him noticing my pain made irritation rise within me.

I wanted to, not so kindly, tell him to back off, but I bit my tongue.